My wallow through the depths of depression has subsided, I have returned to the ranks of the employed. I now work for a company that acts as an investment vendor for retirement plans, but our focus is nearly entirely on 403(b) plans, due to impending regulation changes. Day one was thirteen hours long, with no time to be the new and uninitiated. From the word go, I had projects all to myself, things I knew nothing about Monday I am now in charge of. It's very exciting, I work for a former hard rocker, and the business is sure as hell going places, hopefully we'll all get our arms around it. The main thing is, I know where my next meal is coming from. My severance pay could've held us until the end of the year, but I think I would've sucked the gas-pipe before then. I was not built for unemployment. What really put me at the brink was learning I am 4 days older than Gordon Ramsey; he of the 10 restaurants, 3 TV shows, countless books, and most impressively, 12 Michelin Stars. Oh, and also The Order of The British Empire (OBE). I don't think I'll catch up.
Leading up to this, at the last minute my services were requested by the old man, Mr Popularity, to help sell shirts at Pennsic. This was twelve hours a day in the booth, hawking shirts (except Weds, that was Midnight Madness), but it was a great time. We haven't been able to spend much time together, especially not 10 days in a row, and I'll always be glad I went. Even the dog learned to like me. I got to see friends from eons past; 20, 25 years ago, and relive some of the old glory days, without the hangover.
I'd like to say that I won't get caught unawares again, that I'll be ready in the future, but that would just be a lie. When you're working hard, doing a good job, and the office is successful, you don't expect the rug to be pulled out. Maybe I'll have better luck in a company with 30 employees, instead of 320,000.